Best October Poems

Modern Verse For The Railway
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Vertically they have gone to see the horizon
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desert sucks upper water to store in the deep
trees, plants, herbs and grasses are about to die
sunshine reflects on mirages there
mirages elude and mislead the travelers,
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If it is difficult to feel your mother
Hard to bear and uneasy to share
See only the animals around you
Relation between mother and cub
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The sun's turning pale is a threat, in fact
That directly affects solar system
The climate has already been much changed
With known-unknown, acute poisonous fume;
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Every old man I see
Reminds me of my father
When he had fallen in love with death
One time when sheaves were gathered.
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Especially when the October wind
With frosty fingers punishes my hair,
Caught by the crabbing sun I walk on fire
And cast a shadow crab upon the land,
...

January brings the snow,
makes our feet and fingers glow.

February brings the rain,
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All winter your brute shoulders strained against collars, padding
and steerhide over the ash hames, to haul
sledges of cordwood for drying through spring and summer,
for the Glenwood stove next winter, and for the simmering range.
...

O hushed October morning mild,
Thy leaves have ripened to the fall;
Tomorrow's wind, if it be wild,
Should waste them all.
...

All sounds have been as music to my listening:
Pacific lamentations of slow bells,
The crunch of boots on blue snow rosy-glistening,
Shuffle of autumn leaves; and all farewells:
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The skies they were ashen and sober;
The leaves they were crisped and sere-
The leaves they were withering and sere;
It was night in the lonesome October
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It was my thirtieth year to heaven
Woke to my hearing from harbour and neighbour wood
And the mussel pooled and the heron
Priested shore
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I missed you the other day
When the dew left its diamond glitter upon the grass
And the squirrels and frogs were frolicking merry
When the silence of daybreak calmed
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In the sea on the whale
The fishermen threw a pike,
The whale: I am harmless while
You are hurting me deadly deep,
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O suns and skies and clouds of June,
And flowers of June together,
Ye cannot rival for one hour
October's bright blue weather;
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You said, that October,
In the tall dry grass by the orchard
When you chose to be free,
"Again someday, maybe ten years."
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The month of carnival of all the year,
When Nature lets the wild earth go its way,
And spend whole seasons on a single day.
The spring-time holds her white and purple dear;
...

Bangladesh - An Acrostic Verse
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B angladesh, a delta plain country on the Bay of Bengal is geographically,
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In the Shreve High football stadium,
I think of Polacks nursing long beers in Tiltonsville,
And gray faces of Negroes in the blast furnace at Benwood,
And the ruptured night watchman of Wheeling Steel,
...

THE trees are in their autumn beauty,
The woodland paths are dry,
Under the October twilight the water
Mirrors a still sky;
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You and me,
Passed thirty years and three,
Through Spring and Winter, rain and shine,
Enjoyed our life, barely with a hint of a whine.
...

Beauty is seen daily in poetic duty every day,
Cutie is our Poem Hunter Family all here say.

Far across the globe poets unite here to write,
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What a nightingale!
How sweetly it sings!
On our earth for all,
Guess what it means
...

My Skull Is In Animation - Imagery
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My skull animates
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This wild night, gathering the washing as if it were flowers
          animal vines twisting over the line and
          slapping my face lightly, soundless merriment
          in the gesticulations of shirtsleeves,
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These hills, to hurt me more,
That am hurt already enough,—
Having left the sea behind,
Having turned suddenly and left the shore
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Old leaves have no defence against the wind.
A gray hawk is October's inner cry.
The bells of Salem church play elegies.
Distance becomes a single snowflake's fall.
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Song Of Heart - Dramatic Monologue
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I am, I am
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Butterfly, the wind blows sea-ward,
strong beyond the garden-wall!
Butterfly, why do you settle on my
shoe, and sip the dirt on my shoe,
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And some time make the time to drive out west
Into County Clare, along the Flaggy Shore,
In September or October, when the wind
And the light are working off each other
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There is something in the autumn that is native to my blood—
Touch of manner, hint of mood;
And my heart is like a rhyme,
...

October's bellowing anger breaks and cleaves
The bronzed battalions of the stricken wood
In whose lament I hear a voice that grieves
For battle’s fruitless harvest, and the feud
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Kanav Justa suggested I share my pizza with PoemHunter friends,
but I’ve found, when trying to send real pizza, my wife’s computer bends.
So you PoemHunter friends will have to settle for.... slices of my thoughts.
You’ll have to settle for “Poetic Pizza” Pieces my mind and pen have wrought.
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Where speech fails, poetry takes over.
As if like a fetus in the womb, a poem
Is born in the brain's chamber, where
It sleeps and sometimes moves about
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January jumps about
in the frying pan
trying to heat
his frozen feet
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I spot the hills
With yellow balls in autumn.
I light the prairie cornfields
Orange and tawny gold clusters
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I cannot but remember
   When the year grows old --
October -- November --
   How she disliked the cold!
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”Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
of sun-split clouds, -and done a hundred things
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Trillions Of Kisses (Verse)
October 14, 2017
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Poem Hunter you are really a pretty queen,
You are ruler we are people we are tween.

Gene of poetry you inherit for generation,
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iiGloria

Praise the wet snow
falling early.
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There trudges one to a merry-making
With sturdy swing,
On whom the rain comes down.
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A crazy man that found a cup,
When all but dead of thirst,
Hardly dared to wet his mouth
Imagining, moon-accursed,
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Rape Of The Wilderness
October 24, 2020
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What doesn't enter then my slumbering mind?
-Derzhavin
I
October has arrived - the woods have tossed
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trust is me telling the truth.
trust is you believing me.
trust is me not being afraid.
trust is you not making me.
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A wrinkled crabbed man they picture thee,
Old Winter, with a rugged beard as grey
As the long moss upon the apple-tree;
Blue-lipt, an icedrop at thy sharp blue nose,
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October is the treasurer of the year,
And all the months pay bounty to her store;
The fields and orchards still their tribute bear,
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After the red leaf and the gold have gone,
Brought down by the wind, then by hammering rain
Bruised and discolored, when October's flame
Goes blue to guttering in the cusp, this land
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V-isions of fame and fortune
A-re deep inside your mind;
N-ever let them fade,
N-or let them stay behind.
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Here we are, picking the first fern-shoots
And saying: When shall we get back to our country?
Here we are because we have the Ken-nin for our foemen,
We have no comfort because of these Mongols.
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And this will be all?
And the gates will never open again?
And the dust and the wind will play around the rusty door
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I am small because I am a little child. I shall be big when I am
as old as my father is.
My teacher will come and say, "It is late, bring your slate
and your books."
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No doubt they’ll soon get well; the shock and strain
Have caused their stammering, disconnected talk.
Of course they’re ‘longing to go out again,’—
These boys with old, scared faces, learning to walk.
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On the eighteenth of October we lay in Bantry Bay,
All ready to set sail, with a fresh and steady gale:
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~ Finally Niv Is In Petrified Punctuation ~
Ms. Nivedita
UK
29 October 2010
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He walks among the stars
A star in his own right
His spirit is restless
Adjusting to new home
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Pale amber sunlight falls across
The reddening October trees,
That hardly sway before a breeze
As soft as summer: summer's loss
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October, 1918


Across a world where all men grieve
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That beautiful Shirazi Turk, took control and my heart stole,
I'll give Samarkand & Bukhara, for her Hindu beauty mole.
O wine-bearer bring me wine, such wine not found in Heavens
By running brooks, in flowery fields, spend your days and stroll.
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On fields o'er which the reaper's hand has pass'd
Lit by the harvest moon and autumn sun,
My thoughts like stubble floating in the wind
And of such fineness as October airs,
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A FALLING LEAF

In the multitude
between the cacophonies
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You are our the Supreme, the Unique Artist
In the womb you breathe soul
We are alive,
There we are formed how you form
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How well you speak the language of the rain.
Your mood plays back to me on dusk's blue horn.
Light is unstable as a candleflame,
A thread of being subject to the wind.
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By channels of coolness the echoes are calling,
And down the dim gorges I hear the creek falling;
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'The best thing about the past

is that it's over'
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A m a z i n g!
Female male together! Not at the same time. Although two in one! Lifetime endless! Evolution step down here! New dimension may be or not. It’s true, sometime male sometime female. Captivating entity! Feelings change auto? Nay, two form, one after another, senses change not. Eyes.. brain.. ear.. nose.. tongue.. skin..Lips..the vigorous signifier..the honeyed source.. all these give and take media sense the same.

When become male- oh! exciting the man anticipated, adolescent Adonis or cupid, gorgeous, strong and stout, vibrant; nonetheless endowed with wisdom.
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Dear beloved poets and dear visitors,
You pay your ever shining attention,
The tenth list of titles of honour,
Here we release with enthusiasm
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A hotel in whose ledgers departures are more prominent than arrivals.
With wet Koh-i-noors the October rain
strokes what's left of the naked brain.
In this country laid flat for the sake of rivers,
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Just a drop of tear,
Appears to be a fathomless ocean
If it hangs from a mournful eye
Of someone special,
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Grey clouds cover the blue sky
The sun, the star, the moon
Are not seen well,
The sky reflects on the sea,
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Aberfan

On the morning of 21st October 1966,116 children and
28 adults died in a sea of slurry engulfing a school after
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The Severe Genocide, War And The Hesitated Responding World
October 13, 2023

The warmonger and wars opener savage Israel
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Gaza
October 17, 2023

Gaza
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NOW in the sky
And on the hearth of
Now in a drawer the direful cane,
That sceptre of the . . . reign,
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The moment I saw you
I could barely contain
All the butterflies jumping
It's hard to explain.
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Across the land a faint blue veil of mist
Seems hung; the woods wear yet arrayment sober
Till frost shall make them flame; silent and whist
The drooping cherry orchards of October
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.
Oh my soul, I beg thee search me
Dark surrounds me, search me, try me
I am on my knees, oh my soul
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One morning
before we wake up
the postman freezes
just before putting a letter
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My April Love is always in my heart
My April Love from me will ne'er depart.
She always brings the 'Joy of Spring' to me,
My April Love forever mine will be!
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It's a gray day today
....a gray and rainy day today
I wonder if it will be
....a gray and rainy day
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under the dogwood
leaves cover
a cat’s grave
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If I were a river, I would flow towards heaven,
If I were a dream, I would dwell inside your mind,
I see dream of reality whole day and night,
Bright future always draws attention of yours,
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This morning the sun spattered the world with blue
Skies and from their resting places the winds blew

In reply. Now around us we see blue jays,
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The blinding light
Of the brightest ever sun
Suddenly shrouded
By a thick pall of impenetrable darkness.
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You are the moon in the sky
and i am a far away star from you
you can give me light and make me bright
but i have nothing to offer you
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On a bright day in Sudamapuri,
The second day of October,
In the year of eighteen sixty nine,
A sudden burst of heat,
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A memorable day has begun with truth,
Thank you Poem Hunter Pretty Queen
For your offer to my poem, "Action Reaction, "
Getting a stamp as Poem of The Day,
...

Old is the song that I sing --
Old as my unpaid bills --
Old as the chicken that kitmutgars bring
Men at dak-bungalows -- old as the Hills.
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This kind o' sogerin' aint a mite like our October trainin',
A chap could clear right out from there ef 't only looked like rainin',
An' th' Cunnles, tu, could kiver up their shappoes with bandanners,
An' send the insines skootin' to the bar-room with their banners
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She was born on the east coast of Japan, bordered by an Ocean.
She'd eaten plenty of Seafood, some raw, ......which she called Sushi.
And she was an accomplished Swimmer & often Swam in a pool, BUT
......it never dawned on me how CLOSE she might have felt/been to the 'Sea'.
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Well, it is raining, and the raindrops make
Furtive areolas in the puddles of muddy bellies,
And their mists are like nebulous shrouds,
And unfertilized thoughts of maidens dreaming of
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THIS is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks,
Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight,
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my Freedom, my Freedom
you saved me
you tore my chain
you detached the knots
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Beleaguered past rued in rushes
Hopped to stops at some gushes
Sparkled swank vague tomorrows
Fertile buds withered to harrows
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freshly fallen snow
no tracks to follow
no dreams

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The clouds do darken, the rain does drop
I wonder when its going to stop.
The pitter-patter of rain does fall
Against my windows, against my wall.
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If I were wind, I would reach up to sky,
If I were a bird, I would fly to greet you,
If I were you, I would wait for fortune,
I would pay attention to such a list,
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Deep mists of longing blur the land
as in your late October eve:
almost I think your hand might leave
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Southampton Docks: October 1899

Here, where Vespasian's legions struck the sands,
And Cendric with the Saxons entered in,
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